Reaving The Consequences
by Grayton
Summary: The hero of Brightwall stumbles upon Reaver in quite a situation, leading to all kinds of mischief. Will there be devilish men in ridiculous top hats? Will there be some ungraceful flirting, and odd relationships formed? Read on to find out.  Rated T.


_A/N: Hey everyone! This will be a multi-chap story mainly revolving around the Hero of Bightwall, and Reaver. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything Fable. _

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><p>Lily gave an exasperated sigh as she heard the so called 'eco-warrior' in front of her continue to rant. He, like many other citizens of Albion, had decided that the Queen was an excellent person to force their problems upon. As if she didn't have enough already. There was a darkness threatening to envelop their very existence, and yet, here she was; a hired hobbe killer.<p>

She let her glacier blue eyes roam over the nearby islands as he spoke. They were nestled amidst a gentle sea fog that glimmered like fairy dust in the setting sunshine. It would be an excellent and peaceful place to inhabit like the man had informed her. But, there was no hobbes, therefore, there _should_ be no her. Lily gazed briefly at the man before she decided to interrupt his current speech about 'how filthy those creatures are'.

"I don't see any hobbes."

The man replied with an odd tone and narrowed his muddy eyes.

"I wouldn't expect you to. We _are_ a fair distance away.. M'lady." He said the respectful address as if remembering a particularly strange word.

She gave another sigh. Being the hero and queen she was, she had mostly foregone swordplay and her magical side for that of markmanship. Her keen eye could pick out targets from miles away, and yet, an island a mere fifty feet afar was beyond her talent, or so this man thought.

"I think I would be able to detect them, even from this distance. I _do_ have practise." She subtly gestured to the pistol strapped at her thigh. It was her prized Dragonstomper .48. With an intricate gold handle, blue rune inscriptions trailing the barrel and small flames weeping off it - it spoke expensive. The man raised a skeptical eyebrow and shrugged, but forgot to remove his eyes from her thigh. Lily did not miss this. She crossed her arms in disapproval, clearing her throat loudly. The man soon realised; hasty excuses and praise of her weapon spilling out of his mouth, with guilty eyes avoiding her face. She soon became more amused than angry at the man and his barely coherent ramblings. Soon after silencing him with a raised hand in the air.

The Queen was aware she was attractive, a hint of vanity flawing her personality. She prided herself on her appearance. She had raven locks that flowed to her lower back, framing her ivory skin and pale blue eyes charmingly. Her face was naturally asymmetrical, thanks to her father's devastating good looks, or so she had been told. The rest of her body was one of youth. She was slim, tall, and curvaceous where needed. She was not a fashion victim either. A small, intricate tattoo wound it's way from under her left eye to finish just above it, with one of similar design on her right wrist. She dressed in tight fitting clothes. A white blouse frilled at the sleeves accompanied by a short black jacket, and black hugging pants that seamlessly flowed into her knee high cloth boots, trimmed with silver. And, of course, the ever-present gold crown perched crookedly atop her head.

The man swallowed thickly and managed to meet her bemused stare.

"They are tricky creatures, m'lady. Perhaps you 'ought'a wait 'till the morrow."

Generally, most would have asked instead have stated so brashly. This man however, was an exception. Before the queen could protest, he promptly turned on his heel and retreated back toward the encampment without a word.

Lily stared after him in bewilderment. One moment he was indecently undressing her with his eyes, the next, declaring what _ she, _royalty for goodness sakes, should do! She did have an incredibly lenient temper, but this man was severely grating on her nerves.

Groaning at the prospect of spending a night surrounded by more like that particular individual, she determinedly set up off the path leading away from the campsite, with the last glimmers of sunlight soaking into her jacket.

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><p><em>So what do you think? Sorry it's a bit short, but I didn't want the introduction to drag on forever. Next chapter - Reaver!<br>Please R&R :D _


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